Love Doesn't Wait
by Trauts
Summary: Amy Rose wants every aspect of this dinner to be perfect for when her date arrives. If her date arrives... Yuri, or female/female. Contains swearing.
1. Non Ti Scordar Mai Di Me

Well here's a story essentially out of nowhere. Also, if **Kamala11** or any other username by the same person, such as **Indistinct Conversations**, I believe, reads this, just know that I finally did it...and took your advice on its creation. So thank you for all of your help, and sorry I acted like a cocksure jerk at the time.

I harboured the idea for this fiction for some time, but she's to thank for it being on the list of ideas I have actually acted upon to write about. Indeed, this one is dedicated to her, cheers.

This chapter is written in the style of a "Songfic", something I haven't tried before. Not much to say, but I hope you all enjoy. It's not a theme that will continue in later chapters, mind you.

The song is "Non ti Scordar mai di me", specifically as sung by Giusi Ferreri. I hugely recommend looking it up, on YouTube or whatever the case may be. I do not speak much Italian, for the record, only pigeon Italian from school. If you want the translation to the lyrics, feel free to look it up, but no knowledge of Italian is really needed, especially if you're listening to the song in the background anyway.

Well, enjoy!

**Non ti Scordar Mai Di Me**

Bare, pink-furred hands covered the flame of a match as it flared, keeping it burning as it was delicately guided to set alight to two, red candles. As they burned, a soft aroma arose, guiding over the table with such delicacy, on the edge of smell for any human, but clear to the hedgehog as she gently blew out the fire travelling over the match in her hand.

Jasmine. Sweet, tender Jasmine.

The pink hedgehog put away the matches in a nearby drawer, wiping her uncharacteristically ungloved hands on her dress to dispel the nervous sweat forming, praying that no mark was left. The dress was long, and red, blending well with her fur colour, and of a much more elegant make than her normal skirt. The fortunate lack of any rumble or dampness from her clearing her hands didn't do anything to dispel her nervousness, biting a lipstick-tinted lip softly.

Will she like it? I hope she likes Jasmine. She likes red too, right? Please let her like red...

The hedgehog looked up at the clock on the wall, ticking away softly, each second feeling like an hour.

7:59pm. It hadn't even been a minute since she last checked it...

Forcing herself to slow her breathing, Amy walked around the table she had set up, pulling the corners of the red, silken tablecloth on the small dinner table, making absolutely certain every corner was perfect and equal, that each dinner plate was perfectly aligned with the chair, each piece of cutlery straight and in the proper order. She replaced the candles so their sell wafted out further, the vase of flowers so it didn't intrude upon the view between the two seats. Maybe she should move the vase away entirely off the table? No, flowers were good on a table for dinner, right? Oh dear, do the wine glasses go to the upper left or the upper right of the plate? Which side do the bread plates go on? Damn, damn, damn!

She held back from biting her nails, just praying that it was all acceptable for...for a date. The thought made her heart beat that much faster, a blush darkening her impeccably clean cheeks. She glanced at the front door. She said 8pm, right? She did, she did. Okay. What time is it? Amy glanced at the clock on the wall again.

8:01pm.

Amy glanced around, paranoid that she left something untidy, something out of place or ugly in the room, frantically re-arranging things. Surely the other would be here any second...

_**Se fossi qui con me questa sera,  
>Sarei felice e tu lo sai...<strong>_

Amy's head shot up. No! The kettle! Surely it should be kept hot, what if they want a cup of tea before dinner? Or after, she can't leave them waiting, surely. Amy almost tripped on her high heels as she made her way to the kitchen, switching on the kettle to start boiling, while also bringing out packets of sugar and a miniature milk jug, opening the fridge to look through the different types of milk. Which one do they like? Full Cream? Low Fat? Soy? She bit her lip again, trying to remember desperately if indeed she ever knew...

_**Starebbe meglio anche la luna,  
>ora piu' piccola che mai...<strong>_

Full cream. Yes. There was that time in the cafe...

Amy filled the milk jug, her trembling hands causing a slight spillage. She put the milk aside, gasping in horror as she looked for the closest cloth. She couldn't be seen as clumsy! She can't make any mistakes, they'll be here any minute...

_**Farei anche a meno della nostalgia  
>Che da lontano<br>Torna per portarmi via  
>Del nostro amore solo una scia<br>Che il tempo poi cancellerà  
>E nulla sopravviverà...<strong>_

Cleaning up the spill, she forced her breath to return to normal speed, deciding to leave the sugar, teabags, coffee, kettle, milk and cups all there. They look alright on the bench there, right? At least she's prepared. The salad's still kept cool, but not cold? Okay, yes...The soup? Yes, it's kept warm in there. What about the main meal? Sardines Escalivada. Amy was surprised when she had heard of the other's view of a "perfect dinner", and she had to admit, though she had but sampled the meal she had so carefully prepared, despite its simplicity...it looked good. She had giggled then, but now she desperately hoped she had made it right...please let her have made it right...

_**Non ti scordar mai di me,  
>di ogni mia abitudine,<br>in fondo siamo stati insieme  
>e non è un piccolo particolare.<strong>_

Amy gasped again. What time was it? What if they had been waiting outside? She ran again, more careful with her shoes, looking at the clock as she rushed to open the front door.

8:04pm.

_**Non ti scordar mai di me,  
>della più incantevole fiaba<br>che abbia mai scritto,  
>un lieto fine era previsto e assai gradito...<strong>_

No, no-one there...She's late. She must have been...delayed by something, yeah. Maybe G.U.N had called her in for an emergency assignment? She would have rung, right? Amy closed the door, fearful of having the house too cold for the date, picking up her mobile that she left on a desk behind another vase, hidden unless searched for. No, it was on, with full battery...and no missed calls.

It's only 4 minutes, though. Not a big problem, right? No need to panic. She glanced at the clock again. Perversely, had time sped up after slowing for so long?

8:06pm.

Okay, 6 minutes...

_**Forse è anche stata un pò colpa mia  
>Credere fosse per l'eternità.<br>A volte tutto un pò si consuma,  
>senza preavviso, se ne va...<strong>_

8:12pm.

The candles were starting to go down...at an alarming rate. Weren't they supposed to last for two hours? Maybe it's just really hot in here, should I turn down the heating? No, she hates anything resembling cold, despite the conditions where she works...

Why is she taking so long? Maybe I should call her... Please, please be alright...

_**Non ti scordar mai di me,  
>di ogni mia abitudine,<br>in fondo siamo stati insieme  
>e non è un piccolo particolare.<strong>_

8:20pm.

"No, Rouge hasn't been sent on any missions from any G.U.N base, classified or not, I assure you. If she is not answering her mobile perhaps she has lost it or does not have it with her. You know as I do, Ms Rose, that she is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Goodbye."

_Click_...

_**Non ti scordar mai di me,  
>della più incantevole fiaba<br>che abbia mai scritto,  
>un lieto fine era previsto e assai gradito...<strong>_

8:36pm.

The soup's gone cold... Microwaving it just...loses the flavour.

She's still not answering her cellphone.

_**Non ti scordar…  
>Non ti scordar…<strong>_

8:38pm.

I worked hard on that soup...I suppose I'll put it on the table anyway. She'll turn up. Rouge will turn up.

She's always so precise with her timing.

_**Non ti scordar mai di me,  
>di ogni mia abitudine,<br>in fondo siamo stati insieme  
>e non è un piccolo particolare.<strong>_

8:54pm.

I...suppose I'll just have the soup. She'll come in time for the main course. She's fine...she's always been fine on her own. If I go look for her, she'll just arrive here while I'm gone...

_**Non ti scordar mai di me,  
>della più incantevole fiaba<br>che abbia mai scritto,  
>un lieto fine era previsto e assai gradito<strong>_.

10:16pm.

The candles burnt out. The rest of the meal either too warm. Or too cold. The soup for two gone entirely. The Kettle cold again. Now, in a ruffled dress, and tear stained face, Amy Rose looked into the Sardines Escalivada. Both Plates of it.

She grabbed a handful from each, dumping both unceremoniously onto her own plate, bringing it to the table before grabbing a piece of the sardine in her fingers.

It's not like anyone else is there to care.

As final Author's Notes: regardless of whether this is normally the sort of thing you read or not, I hope you did enjoy reading it. All criticism is welcome, and reviews are vastly appreciated. I try to reply to every review, too.


	2. My Priceless Rose

Well, I return with the second chapter of "Love Doesn't Wait". And not as a songfic either, mind you. This time, I'd like to thank '**1Past and Present1'**, both for her review, her encouragements and her advice.

Indeed, everyone who likes this story has her to thank for its continuation, as they do **Kamala11 **for it originally.

This chapter is a lot longer, mind you. It also gets a bit dark at times, and veers...but intentionally so.

I hope you enjoy reading, as always.

**My Priceless Rose**

It's strange how pain is often described as "white" or "burning lines", at least in the sense of a headache. In Rouge's case, it was like her brain was covered in very bristly clumps of wire, arranged like cotton wool but digging into every corner painfully, while also clumping and slowing it all.

She managed a groan. What brief comfort it gave, as if it exhaled some of the pain...only to follow with a new feeling of bile rising in her stomach and an uncomfortable force in her ears. Raising her newly-awoken, yet almost numb hands to her face, she covered her eyes-her eyelids didn't cover enough of the living room's light-and rubbed life back into her skin, as much as was possible.

A thought began to form in the bat's mind. It was there...it was...somewhere. Where was it? It was there a second ago...what was that thought? Her mind went in circles, but slowly spiralling towards some thought that's so close to escaping her...

'_Waking up, yeah. Waking. Asleep. I was asleep. I woke up from sleep...yes...what was that? I was...there was sleep. Sleep. I woke up from sleeping, but...sleep. I'm sleeping on the couch. I don't remember sleeping on the couch. I know this feeling, where do I know this? Ugh..._' Rouge rubbed her eyes and face some more, alleviating some of the pain and allowing her train of thought to continue.

'_Must've been drinking. Hangover, yeah. I slept. I ended up asleep, where I later woke...I mean, I ended up sleeping on a couch, then. Okay. I must have drunk a bit, then slept on the couch. But there was something about waking up...what was that? I know there was something about waking up, like there's something wrong about it..._' Rouge's head swam, still going in circles as she felt that there was something **so **important just on the edge of thought.

'_I awoke...wait...I woke before though? Yeah. I woke up, ringing. Ringing in my ears. A sound, a clock. Beeps, of noise. Yes. An alarm woke me. So I was gonna get up. I switched it off, and was going to get up. What was I getting up for? I think I got...no I never got up. I just...closed my eyes and...I woke up again? Now? I fell back asleep._' Rouge removed her hands from her face, forcing her eyelids open into the glaring light above her, squinting as she forced them to stay open, the light forcing her brain to work faster, to wake up better, even as her headache screamed in protest.

'_Okay. I got up for something. There was something I got up for._' Rouge thought, sitting up from her laying position, forcing down nausea when her head swam in dizziness. She looked at the digital clock on the table in front of her, a black screen facing her. It was off. She frowned, leaning forward-again fighting dizziness-to flick the switch to turn the device back on. Red digits suddenly reappeared on the screen.

10:22pm.

Suddenly Rouge was aware of her pulse quickening, warning signals breaking out across her pain-addled mind. Again, that feeling of incredible importance... What day was it? Something was at 8pm... Her eyes drifted across the table, suddenly spotting a bouquet of Calypso Orchids. Rouge had bought them for someone, someone who had laughed-so beautifully-a week ago at the pink roses Rouge had bought, hugging her before telling the bat one of her actual favourite flowers.

'_...Shit._'

Rouge frantically searched her pockets as she stood, pushing against the hangover that sought to drag her back down onto the couch, before remembering how she had lost her phone working for GUN just last night.

Barely glancing at a nearby mirror on the way out, Rouge grabbed the orchids and ran outside, slamming the door behind her as she took off onto her wings, flapping somewhat clumsily into the air, the cold wind further forcing back the nausea that kept trying to over whelm her.

'_Shit, shit, shit. I promise I'll get a landline phone after this. I promise...Shit...shit. Why didn't I call her immediately to tell her I didn't have a phone? What must she be thinking? Shit. What was I even thinking?_' Rouge vaguely remembered being so tired, after a sleepless night of work. After the mission, she couldn't force away the adrenaline, and couldn't sleep despite her exhaustion.

'_So I picked up the Orchids I'd ordered, set my alarm so I could get some sleep in the day before it was time, and to calm my nerves and body I had a few...um...maybe a few more than a few glasses of wine. Too many bad habits from Shadow. Jesus. I'm so sorry. Shit, I'm so sorry Amy. I promise I'll never drink again, I promise. Please don't be worrying about me...Shit shit shit..._'

It was normally at least a half-hour's flight to Amy's. Much longer by car, considering they lived essentially on the outskirts of the city, on opposite sides. Rouge had made it halfway there in ten minutes, despite exhaustion weighing her wings and a hangover impairing her flight capabilities.

...

Diving for the lights of a house within the midst of the forest surrounding the city, Rouge landed on the edges of the clearing where Amy's house stood. Panting in exhaustion, she leant on a tree for support, trying her best to get her breath back. She had no idea what time it was, besides being at some point past 10:30pm, hours after she should've been here. As soon as she could walk without her legs wobbling too badly, the bat did her best to brush down her unkempt fur with her trembling hands, try to rub warmth back into her limbs and ease the pain in her head as well as the ache in her wings.

Dizzy, she clutched the orchids in her hand, and ran to the front of the house. She had no idea what to say, what **could **she say? 'Sorry, I got drunk and slept in'?

She sighed, resting her trembling hand on the wood of the door in front of her. Finally, she summed up the willpower to reach out and push the tiny, insignificant button that was the doorbell, hearing the vaguest echo of it from inside the house.

Rouge couldn't tell how long she stood in the cold waiting. It could have been ten seconds, or a hundred. Her sense of time, of everything, was gone, blown away at the prospect of waiting for that door in front of her to open to the woman she so adored.

A click.

Anything that Rouge was about to say died on her lips at the sight of the hedgehog in front of her. She was beautiful. But hauntingly so, a beauty from pain that shouldn't have happened...vague smudges dripped down from her eyes through her fur, make-up wetted by tears and then brushed aside by hands, only pushing coloured pigments into the fur deeper. Even a smear of lipstick had been brushed from the lips, leaving a mar across her cheek. Her expression was one that was worse than anger; one utterly devoid of emotion, as if some glass wall lay between her emotions and her body.

Rouge trembled. For all of her usual self-confidence...she felt ugly, disgusting, wrong. Wrong to be looking at this terrifying beauty, wrong to have caused it all. And Amy just stood there and stared at her, as if seeing through Rouge's body and soul. It made her feel hollow.

"Amy...I'm so sorry...I-I...I over..overslept. I'm so sorry." Rouge almost choked her confession, her apology. She meant it...she'd never meant anything more, she thought. And yet still the hedgehog stood and stared blankly, before pushing the door closed again.

A click. And Rouge was alone again. She stood, frozen in place for some time, holding back tears.

"Amy! Please, I'm so sorry..." Rouge almost yelled as she hit the door in front of her with her palm, resting her head against it. Even so, she wasn't sure whether she was talking to Amy, or herself. She wasn't sure if she would-or could-ever forget that image, that sight, of Amy just then.

Footsteps, Rouge stood back up, away from the door. Daring to hope...

The door swung open rapidly, but before Rouge had the time to take in the sight in front of her she felt the cold water drench her from head to toe, flung from the fortunately cold kettle. She gasped, crying out from the sudden sensory shock in the cold as the door slammed back shut.

Rouge dropped the orchids where she stood, turning and taking off again into the sky.

What else could she do?

She flew slowly in the night, avoiding the city as she sobbed. Over and over, her aching wings gliding her over treetops as what felt like icy water dripped from her every inch of damp clothing she'd worn for almost 24 hours straight and every section of unkempt fur. And despite every nerve in her body complaining from a million pains, nothing could compare to that haunting image that would not leave her mind. She could think nothing of anything but it, as she mindlessly flew.

The rain came before she started to dry. It weighed heavier still on her wings that were reaching the end of their strength, and the sky began to groan and rumble as electricity formed in the clouds above. Rouge briefly considered just folding her wings and dropping the some forty feet to the ground, before finally-and safely-swooping and landing as the storm rose in intensity. Even as the rain drenched her even further, it was all the bat could do to lie against a tree on the soggy earth, and think of Amy's face, scarred with makeup, because of her.

...

The storm didn't let up, and eventually Rouge managed to walk several hours until she reached her house. Closing the front door behind her, she took no comfort in the sudden warmth of the house, nor felt any concern for the carpet which she trod muddy footprints into, and dripped muddy water onto. She'd reached some corner of her mind where it no longer mattered. Nothing had happened; she had just finished a particularly bad or terrifying mission and was back home.

1:51am.

Walking into the kitchen, she mindlessly removed her shoes and socks, placing them carelessly against a wall. The cold tiles didn't bother her, and the house was always heated generously. Not that she felt the warmth as she opened a cupboard to reveal a senseless collection of bottles of wine, ranging from cheap to expensive without any sort of order or care involved.

She'd just had a bad mission, that's all. And she still knew from Shadow the cure to anything like that. She brought out the first one she saw, removing the screw-top and bringing the bottle to her mouth.

And stopped. The scene she built around her suddenly falling to pieces as easily as the wine bottle she threw into the sink, red liquid poured down the drain. Sitting at the kitchen table, she laid her head on it, bent over, and cried.

...

It's a state you go into, when you're like that. If you just lay on something, your tears slowly peter out, almost like you're sleeping. Probably where the saying 'cry yourself to sleep' comes from. But in truth, it's almost more like a trance. Where you feel nothing, yet every second takes an eternity...so drastically different from sleep, where hours pass instantly.

It's also so easily to mistake the sounds of the world around you for the self-punishing daydreams in your head, as you lose touch with what is and isn't real. That is why it took several seconds for Rouge to recognize the sound of the doorbell as something **real** hitting her ears.

5:40am. Due to the time of year, it was still as dark as ever outside.

Rouge almost leapt from her seat, running to the front door, recognizing the light outside as the automatic porch-light, confirming that there was someone outside. Yanking the door open...there she was. If neither bat nor hedgehog were in so much pain right now, they may have laughed at the sudden reversal of guest and host.

As it was, there stood Amy once more. The rain hadn't let up, and it was clear that she had walked just as Rouge was forced to. Her dress was ruined, probably beyond repair, though at least she had gotten her usual, practical boots. Every part of her was covered in water, which seemed to have cleaned any trace of make-up from her fur, but not the puffy, reddened eyes. Trembling in obvious cold, she looked up at the much taller bat, words forming on her mouth.

"I'm s-"

Rouge went to her, stepping forward to embrace the cold hedgehog in her own since-dried body. God, did anything ever feel as good as holding her Rose like that, to feel that fur, that boundless energy and tenderness so close? She held the trembling girl closer still, warmly, protectively. Could anything ever be wrong with Amy so close?

"Hush. Don't be sorry. I'm the one who should be. So very sorry." Rouge whispered into her beloved's ears, "My soulmate, My Priceless Rose."

Rouge's heart skipped a beat as Amy hugged her tighter.

"Come on, let's get you inside." Rouge crooned, gently guiding the shivering hedgehog inside, closing the door with a foot behind her. Neither of them let go of the other for a moment, just gripping each other as Rouge continued to whisper, guiding them both across the house, heedless of the new mud-filled trail on the floor, "I'm so sorry my everything, my perfect Rose. I'm so sorry. I lost my phone, I drank too much, I overslept. I did everything wrong, I'm so sorry. I promise I won't ever again, nothing like that ever again. I promise, okay?"

Finally they reached the bathroom.

"Let's dry you off, okay? Please, take off that dress, sweetheart, it's only keeping you colder." Rouge asked genuinely, care and concern in every level of her speech. Her soulmate was hurt, cold and frightened; Rouge will be there to help her, to protect her. She was determined of that. She **will** be there for Amy, not like last time.

Rouge finally detached from the hug, kissing Amy's forehead, her lips lying there, savouring the contact for several seconds before separating with utter tenderness. They both smiled, green eyes locking in a gaze that lasted for several seconds, before Rouge turned away to pull two towels from a heated towel rack, actually blushing-strangely-at the sound of unzipping behind her. Turning back, Rouge held out the towels, eyes closed respectfully.

"Rouge."

Rouge felt a warm feeling through her chest. She could tell, by the tone, that Amy was smiling. Opening her eyes, Rouge saw the hedgehog in nothing but the most basic of coverings of her underwear. Amy was blushing, quite deeply. They hadn't gone very intimately into their relationship, as such; Amy liked it how it was, as did Rouge. Smiling, Rouge stepped forward, knowingly wrapping a warm towel around the shoulders of the girl. As Rouge leant down slightly to wrap the other around Amy's waist, she couldn't help but grin as Amy blushed deeper still.

It was a powerful thing. To know that someone trusts you to do all of that, trusting you to have no ulterior motive.

Kissing Amy's cheek, assured that her partner was comfortably quilted up and warm, Rouge guided her out of the bathroom. Human-sized towels had their benefits, and completely covered the hedgehog from shoulders to feet, essentially.

"Go sit in the living room, I'll be with you in two seconds, okay? I promise, my beautiful Rose." Rouge said, causing Amy to look up at the bat and nod, still almost completely silent, but smiling upwards.

As Amy walked off, Rouge went to her room, dragging the large-but-not-human sized blanket from her bed, and carrying it to Amy, flicking the kettle "On" on her way there. Again, any negative thoughts or feelings were swept away at the sight of Amy sitting, clearly finally warming up, on her couch. Rouge brought the blanket over, getting the hedgehog to stand briefly so she could wordlessly wrap the blanket around the younger girl so that Amy sat on it as she sat down, able to fold it around herself for warmth and comfort. Rouge kissed Amy's face twice. Once again on the forehead, once again on a cheek, before smiling and returning to the kitchen. Her ultra-modern kettle had boiled already, and she poured out two mugs of white tea, generously sweetening both with sugar. Bringing them back, the bat placed them on the table in front of the couch and made to sit down on the other side of the couch so Amy could lie down if she wanted.

Before she could, Amy unfolded the blanket she was wrapped in, clearly designating a place for Rouge to sit, cradled next to her. Again, they smiled at one another, as Rouge sat there, an arm around Amy as she pulled the blanket across again, both swaddled with each other.

"I love you." They both said it at the same time.

Rouge leaned in towards Amy's face, but it was Amy who leaned back and connected their lips. Both sets of arms suddenly latched around the other, as Amy pushed Rouge back against the couch, lying over her as they kissed, holding each other, stopping only for gasps of breath. They had kissed, on lips, twice before. Rouge remembered clearly. To her, every time they did, it highlighted the sweetest taste, the perfect contentment, the priceless Rose that was Amy.

Her Amy.

...

They laid like that until well after Dawn had risen. Their drinks went untouched, each sustained by each other and nothing else, exchanging fervent kisses, promises of love and apologies. They didn't sleep, just held each other in the ultimate sense of safety and love.

"I truly am sorry, Amy. I'm so sorry for what I did...I know you must have worked so, so hard. I-"

"Shhhh. It's okay, my heartbeat. Thief of my heart. My soulmate. I forgive you, I promise. I'm so sorry for-"

"My love, I told you you shouldn't be sorry for that, okay? I deserved so much worse than that, in truth. My perfect, Priceless Rose. Now sleep...I think we're both getting tired."

Rouge held her hedgehog close, listening devotedly and happily to Amy's tired mumbles of how much she loved Rouge, waiting until sleep had taken the younger before Rouge herself fell asleep.

...

While writing this, particularly at some parts, the writing almost was an addiction to me, strangely. Unexpectedly, and unintentionally, some parts of this story are very...personal. To me. 

But...I hope it ended on a suitably sweet note. It's much deeper than what I normally write, and I had problems where to end the chapter, in truth. I can't wait, either, to hear your views, 1Past and Present1.

After how strongly I felt writing this...I'm not sure if I'll end the story here, either. More chapters may yet be made.

I hope you all enjoyed the story. Reviews, as always, are hugely appreciated, and mean a lot to me. 

Until next time, though, Farewell!


End file.
